A/N: I do not own Harry Potter or any other characters other than those I have made up myself.

The Dark Lord, Voldemort had always prided himself as the most powerful being on the face of the earth. He was drunk on the fear that he had instilled in everyone, the power he held over the wizarding populace, and he had no intention to stop his rule.

Thus, when Severus Snape had come to him bearing the news of new born baby, capable of ending his reign due to a prophecy, he sought to stamp out the problem immediately, to 'nip it at its bud' before it became to... problematic.

And that's why he is here, at Godric's Hollow on the day known as Halloween to the filthy Muggles. A fitting day, as it was a day for horrors and nightmares, and what better way to celebrate Halloween than to kill this prophesied boy and secure his rule over magical Britain, eventual spreading to the whole world.

And it starts here, when he destroys the only person who can defeat him. He had put a lot of planning into this victory. His worthless servant, Peter Pettigrew had done his greatest deed. He had delivered the Potters to him. With the death of this family, who also had been a thorn in his side too long, no-one could humanly stop him. He approached the Potter's hidden cottage, taking care that he had no distractions that would hinder him when he ensured the demise of his apparent rival.

A small child ran up to him, "Nice costume mister!"

Voldemort sneered at the child, who, when seeing his face, turned pale and ran away. Voldemort was tempted to kill the child as he ran, but resisted, knowing it would alert the Potters to his presence. He continued up towards the house, slowly opening the gate, marvelling at the sudden ease at how he had broken into Dumbledore's supposed greatest defence, the Fidelius Charm.

Moving stealthily, Voldemort wanted nothing more to burst into the house and fire off spells at whoever was within, but the Potters were no push-overs. He needed a plan, to silently take them out one at a time.

By the time Voldemort reached the window, he knew this would be easier than ever expected. The parents weren't even home. The boys playing in the living room, unaccompanied and certainly unguarded.

The two boys, one looking about four years old while the other looked barely one, were building LEGO spacecrafts. Voldemort focused his attention to the younger of the two. This was the boy who was 'destined' to defeat him. But no longer, for tonight he would rid the world of the spawn of a mudblood while he was defenceless and, unopposed, he could walk right into the Ministry of Magic and have all of Magical Britain at his feet.

But first, he would have to kill the boy. It was a small matter, for Voldemort had murdered more people than all the Muggle criminals of the world put together. He calmly walking right up to the door and pushed it open. Not even bothering about secrecy anymore, he stalked towards the living room, startling the two boys within. Anthony Potter, the newly born baby, looked on incomprehensively as Voldemort laid his cold eyes upon the child. Harry Potter, barely four years old, already understood what was about to happen.

"Avada Kedavra!"

The curse was cast, the sickly looking green spell soared through the air towards Anthony, but at the last moment, Harry had jumped in the way to protect his little brother. The curse took him in the chest, just over where his heart was. Harry slumped to the floor, dead, a look of defiance upon his face, his eyes staring unseeingly at Voldemort.

Despite looking his victims in the eyes before murdering them in cold-blood, Voldemort was slightly unnerved by the hard stare being given to him by a four year old. He growled out loud, shaking off the feeling, dismissing it and pointed thirteen and a half inches of yew at Anthony, determined not to be stopped by anything else.

"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort cast for a second time.

The curse stuck Anthony in the forehead, and for a second, a look of triumph was etched across Voldemort's face. The triumphant look quickly turned into one of bewilderment, and then for once, Voldemort felt fear. The Killing Curse had, instead of being absorbed into the boy to kill him, begun to reform in front of the child's head and before Voldemort could do anything other than blink his eyes, the curse rebounded against its caster.

Voldemort felt pain for the first time since becoming known throughout magical Britain as You-Know-Who. He body was disintegrating before his eyes while the boy he had tried to kill was simply crying... blood leaking from a wound on his forehead, right where the Killing Curse had hit.

Voldemort screamed, his voice filled with a combination of fury and pain. His soul was released from his body, merely a wisp and an immense magical backlash exploded from his body. The entire house was suddenly alight with magical flames, burning up everything, even the very stone foundations of the house. A single pale blue light emitted from his wand, barely visible, and surged into the lifeless body that was once Harry Potter, and right before Voldemort's burning eyes, he began to stir. He screamed in outrage. How could anyone survive the Killing Curse let alone two boys who were at the most vulnerable age?

Voldemort's soul vanished from the house, a burning fury directed towards the two boys, towards Anthony Potter, who had vanquished him, just as the Dark Lord had intended to do to Anthony.

Dumbledore had arrived on the scene within minutes. He had felt the wards on the house fall when was burning and had immediately told Fawkes, his Phoenix companion, to alert the James and Lily Potter, whom he knew were over at Sirius' house. He quickly Apparated to Godric's Hollow with a growing sense of dread at what he would find.

As soon as Dumbledore Apparated, he felt intense heat burning upon his face. He tried to open his eyes but he couldn't without getting blinded with the fire's light. Casting the necessary protection charms, he opened his eyes and looked with horror upon what was once the Potter's house. The fire was obviously of a magical nature, burning everything it touched, including the solid stone that made the house.

James and Lily Potter had just arrived to see Dumbledore desperately trying to dissipate the raging fire. Both Potters quickly ran to help the old man save what remained of the cottage and possible whatever had survived within. Several 'Order of the Phoenix' members had arrived and stared at the blaze which was consuming the house, before helping quench the flames.

Five minutes later, Dumbledore pulled two boys from the wreckage. Both Harry and Anthony were covered in cuts, burns and other injuries but nothing that could be fixed. However, a certain scar caught the attention of the old man. A scar shaped in the form of a lightning bolt, upon the forehead of Anthony Potter.

Turning to the crowd that had gathered to watch he said calmly "I believe we have the saviour of the world. Anthony Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived.